


Prologue

by The Judgement (TheJudgement)



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Archive warnings in notes!, Fantasy, Female Protagonist, Gen, Magic, Medieval
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-18 09:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11288850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJudgement/pseuds/The%20Judgement
Summary: Snowwe had just finished taking out a horde of goblins, and she was just about to collect the bounty in Gateway City and move on. But before she made it to the city hall, she was stopped by a thief with an impossible burden. Knowing he was not a bad man, and helping him would undoubtedly make him stop stealing for good, she took on his quest; to find and deliver the Embergem. However, it wasn't charity what made her gear up for such a massive journey. The Embergem's collectors were the wealthy family of Varksnaal. Rich, but bloodthirsty and dishonest people. She would most certainly get a fitting reward for her immense effort... Be it willingly given or violently collected like the heads of all bounty-holding scum. Nobody believes any Varksnaal is any better than these criminals anyway.





	Prologue

A woman was walking through the busy streets of Gateway City, the capital city of Vaasdal. With her brisk pace, her long hair -though it was grey, it had a sort of purple shade to it, something she never saw on other people- and long, brown overcoat, she left a breeze in her wake. She wore her heavy steel gauntlets over her coat, tucked the sleeves under the metal to make sure it wouldn't get in her way. Her steel boots covered her kneecap and everything below and were covered with a bit of blood. The woman tucked her sandbrown trousers in the boots as well, so she wouldn't trip over the cloth. She had short legs, but she had an average height. Her hips were just low, and thus she could either have too long trousers or too tight ones. Nobody wanted to make the right size for her. Invisible under the closed overcoat was the chestplate. A lump of steel covered her entire ribcage and shoulders, protecting most common places to be hit, while not restricting her movement at all. Underneath the armour and coat, she was wearing a reddish brown shirt. The shirt, too, was too big. To make sure that the shirt would reach her hips, she had to buy an oversized shirt.  
"At least the blacksmith who made my armour was kind enough to take my measurements..." she always thought that when she realised how poorly her clothes fit.  
Also hidden underneath the overcoat was her sword. Aside from the platinum crossguard and pommel, the sword wasn't really impressive. About as broad as two-thirds of her waist, and as long as her torso, no blacksmith or merchant would call it a claymore or any two-handed blade, though it's heavy enough most people would wield it with both hands anyway. Anyone untrained could break their wrist swinging it around with one hand. The sword was a gift from the blacksmith who made the woman's armour. Though it actually was a failed sword made of exclusive materials a merchant traded him for a warhammer one day, the purple-haired woman was very grateful. The trusty blade had been on her side for years, something the blacksmith could never imagine. The woman missed the metalworker. She always thought he was a kind man. She never thought he deserved what he got. As she lost herself in thought, her pace slowed down, and she started looking around. Her light, almost colourless grey eyes somehow had a slight tinge of brown in them. Then she saw her bag; a brown burlap sack, clasped to a small iron hook on her coat, the bottom of the bag drenched with blood. It was filled with goblin ears. Gateway City itself was safe from the tiny green monsters, but the forests around it and the roads leading to the city were constantly terrorised by them. After a while, the lord in the city decided things couldn't go on like that. He'd reward everyone who came back with the left ear of one of the cursed beings with five golden coins; that was around four months payment with most professions.  
"Right, the bag... Gotta deliver this to the Chamberlain..." the woman mumbled to herself. She turned to another street leading to the castle. Though the way was longer, there were fewer people walking those streets. And if you're walking around with blood-stained clothes and a bloody bag clipped to your right hip, well, it can never hurt not being seen like that. Suddenly, a man called out to the woman from a stack of crates on the side of the street. He was short, but he looked like he was a few years older than she was. His skin was a little browned, he must have been outside the walls a lot. The woman never understood why she was so pale; she never wore anything to cover her face and she was always outside, she didn't even have a home. Furthermore, the man had a slight stubble and shoulder-length brown, wavy hair. He had green eyes and was wearing dark brown, hooded, leather armour. For some reason, he wasn't wearing the hood.  
"Hey, lass! Yes, you, the young lady with the unusual purple hair!" he jumped off the crates and landed smoothly in front of the woman. She just looked him in the eye with a calm expression.  
"What is it?..." she asked.  
"You, look like, you, could use, some, protection?" the man asked, choosing his words carefully. At that, the woman let out a wry chuckle.  
"I don't..." she replied.  
"You're a woman..." the man paused. "with some nice jewellery," he pointed to the amulet she was wearing. A platinum chain with a light purple stone in it.  
"I can handle myself..." she calmly said.  
"Just so you know, that makes you a target for both robbers and rapists, and, well, with all this talk of the upcoming war... world's gone mad. You..." he shook his head and sighed. "you never know who you can trust."  
Though he clearly tried to persuade her, he sounded genuinely sad for a moment. Yet something didn't fit well with his explaining. He didn't do this out of charity. Then the woman realised; the man was a thief.  
In the blink of an eye, or maybe even a heartbeat, or even faster, she grabbed her sword and swung it at the man's neck, stopping it right where it doesn't yet touch his skin, but he could feel the cold radiating off the steel.  
"Then let them come," she said.  
The man silently looked at her. "Hmm, steel gauntlets, they'd add some power when using an overhead slam down, boots protect a lot better than most people expect, and add more power when you'd kick your opponent, and the chestplate, you did that masterfully, hidden underneath the overcoat, protecting the most common places to get hurt, the fact that it doesn't continue down your spine or stomach makes sure your mobility doesn't get restricted at all, and the complete armour set is light, allowing you to outmanoeuvre most people at that aspect too... You're either a very lucky girl or you have proper knowledge about combat. Now I know a lucky person when I see one, I was trained for that, look for something in the way they walk, how they talk, how they place their eyelids, it's a dead giveaway. If I look at your walk, it's a small limp... Weren't lucky enough to dodge? Or maybe someone was lucky enough to land the hit." he paused and nodded to her bag and the inside of her coat. "and looking at the ropes and clasps in your overcoat I'd say you're an adventurer, maybe a bounty hunter? And the bloodied bag, well, something bloody has to be in it, because the blood is fresh enough to drip off. Now considering your boots are covered with blood and mud, and so is the lower part of your coat, but nothing above your waist. Why's that? Because you fought small enemies. Goblins maybe? Would explain why you're carrying a blood-soaked bag in the middle of a city, no?" he certainly was a professional at reading people. The woman was fairly skilled too, but not nearly as good as he was.  
"What is it?..." she asked again.  
"Well," he paused and carefully pushed the woman's sword away, which she put back in her coat immediately. "I know hunting bounties is a dangerous profession. No matter how skilled you are, someone can always have the luck of hitting the wrong spot. I guess that's why you're a bit limp too. What if the next guy will be lucky enough to hit your throat instead of your leg?"  
"You seem to know a lot about bounty hunters for someone who doesn't even know that they don't literally hunt bounties..." she replied sarcastically.  
The man chuckled at that. "Let me believe, eh! No, but really, it's dangerous. Having a companion wouldn't hurt. So for a small fee, let's say... Fifty gold coins, I can be that companion for the while."  
An outrageous price.  
"I really prefer to fight alone... I don't like dragging people along in my fights..." the woman shook her head. "and besides... You're clearly a thief. Why would you try to get money putting your head on the line when you can also make a poor farmer struggling to pay his taxes get executed and laugh at his misfortune while you're spinning their purse around your finger?"  
The woman's cold words hurt the man. Not because she was wrong. Because she was right. He was struggling, and he hated the people who made him fight for everything he had, but it was when people say things like what she said that he realised he was in no position to, because somewhere someone hated him for the exact same reasons, but this person doesn't even know who to hate. Thieves are terrible, and the realisation always hurts. He grabbed the woman's hand and looked her dead in the eye, to make the connection between their souls better. She has no reason to believe a thief, but if she can feel he's not lying it might be different.  
"What's next, you gonna kiss me?..." the woman asked.  
The man started laughing. "Well, I would, but then it's not so easy explaining something with my tongue stuffed in your mouth, is it?"  
The woman smiled at that.  
"Look, my ma was a gambler... or, well, you can't say it's gambling if you know you're gonna win. My da was a thief like I am. However, he was a gilded thief. Sadly, the guild depended on rich people investing in it and employing them. The family of Varksnaal was one of these people. But my da was a personal friend of 'em too. When the guild shattered, my family had a debt to Varksnaal. We could easily pay, but... My ma and da ran off. It was just me and my sis. I wanted to pay Varksnaal immediately, just to be done with it. But they didn't accept. They wanted a certain amount each month, with interest, and they kept doubling it. I had to pay so much more. After a while, Varksnaal's private army raided the village and stole my gold. They captured my sis. I need to pay every month, or they would send her to... to the brothel," he explained. "I can't get enough money by just picking everyone's pockets here."  
"I'm hearing a 'but'..." the woman said.  
"Sharp," the man replied. "Well. Varksnaal didn't care about the debt at all. They just wanted the Embergem, and they thought my da had it. As if! He was a moderate pickpocket, a novice burglar and a shoddy combatant! No way he could have had it! Anyway, if I give these bastards the gem, they'll free my sis and take away my debt."  
The woman nodded. "How about this..." she pulled her hand away from the man. "I'll get the Embergem... you will never steal anything again," she offered.  
The man smiled. He'd do anything. "Your wish is my command!" he said.  
"So, uh, what's your name? I can't go around calling you 'Lifesaver Purplehair' forever," he waited for an answer. He didn't get it. "My name's Charles. Charles Groimke," he added.  
"Snowwe..." the woman replied.  
"Not your real name, I assume?" Charles asked.  
"For as far as you're concerned..." Snowwe replied.  
The thief laughed. "Well, okay then. You go on ahead, collect the value of that bag, I'll gear up, okay?" he asked.  
"No. You aren't going anywhere. I don't like companions in battle. I... I don't want it. Stay here. I will get that gem..." Snowwe replied.  
"B-but, it's, it's a big journey! You will be in danger! I-I can help! You'll have to know where it is, and, and, it'll be a hike! You can't limp over any mou..." Charles frantically cried out. He didn't want Snowwe to go alone. It was his problem, the least he could do was help! But he quickly stopped. Snowwe was obviously not listening; she was already walking towards the city hall and simply waved Charles away. At first, he thought Snowwe didn't think of him as a proper fighter. But he realised, every time he said anything about a companion in her questing, her calm, almost cold gaze turned... Remorseful? No, it turned sad. Maybe she's just seen a lot of companions die? He had no idea. He didn't want to find out. If he wasn't allowed to help Snowwe, which he felt like he had to, he really shouldn't bother her. With that thought, Charles went home. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

"Ah, hello madam! Welcome to Fort Hellhold, Gateway City's city hall! As you can imagine, the lord has a lot to do, so he can't be bothered to talk to everyone who walks in here... Oh, I'm sorry, it's not like you're bothering, madam. Either way, I'm the Chamberlain, so perhaps I can assist you? Oh, but you don't look like anyone who'd live here. No offence, of course! I didn't mean it to be rude, just, maybe you are interested in the history of the city? Or this castle? I can assure you, it's quite impressive!" The tall, grey-haired Chamberlain and his small, brown goatee have been by the Lord Funkrain's side for as long as he was the lord of Gateway City. Though the Chamberlain was more busy with just the complaints of the peasantry in the city than Lord Funkrain was with anything, he never wanted anyone to assist him. And even though most people he dealt with were rude, had senseless problems either literally anyone or nobody could solve, or just wanted to waste his time as a jest, the Chamberlain was proud of his role, patient with everyone who came to him, and always happy and ready to help.  
"I'm afraid I'm not interested..." Snowwe whispered, avoiding to look the Chamberlain in his eye.  
"Oh, what a shame, I hear these words a few times too often. Ah, comes with the job, am I right? So, if you wish not to hear the history and tales of our walls and everything in it, then with what may I assist such a lovely lady?" the Chamberlain was no charmer or flatterer, and he wasn't interested in any romantical endeavours with Snowwe, but he thought she was sad and tried to cheer her up. the simple compliment had helped the Chamberlain deal with countless widows and sad farmer's wives and daughters after a scolding. Not everyone was educated enough to know women had a few physical troubles men didn't have, and not everyone was superstitious enough to kick the women out of any heavy field work. He was disappointed by the former and glad about the latter reason of his frequent encounters with saddened women.  
"..." Snowwe didn't say anything. Instead, she threw the burlap sack on the floor in front of the Chamberlain's feet. The bag burst open, releasing a flurry of blood covering the floor and the Chamberlain's carefully washed clothes.  
"Oh heavens..." the Chamberlain sighed. He was in charge of dealing with the goblin bounty too. Most times when someone came to deliver the ears it was a merchant or farmer who was unlucky enough to encounter a green-skinned problem and lucky enough to come out alive. Occasionally, it was a band of warriors with a considerable amount of ears. But it never was such a heap, and he definitely never got any of the bloody trophies flung at him."  
"Well, dear, what would you want for this? I-I mean, it's five golden coins each ear, of course! Ah, but, how many are there even? Forty? Forty-five?" the Chamberlain asked.  
"...Sixty-three... It's sixty-three ears..." Snowwe whispered.  
"Well, that would be three hundred and fifteen gold coins... Oh heavens, that's a lot... I'm not even sure if the lord has so much available for the ear bounty... I'll go check, okay, dear?" the Chamberlain stammered.  
"The Embergem..." Snowwe said and repeated when the Chamberlain looked her in the eye, confused.  
"I don't need such a ridiculous amount of gold... I just need to know where the Embergem is..." she explained.  
"Oh, sweetie, the Embergem is just a myth!" the Chamberlain tried to work his way around it; the lord wants all kinds of rare and mythical artefacts, and he has a legion of highly trained treasure hunters of all kinds. Mages, rogues, warriors, anyone who would be able to find and retrieve the magical items told of in any lore. he was close to the Embergem. His army has isolated one place where it could possibly be. If the Embergem exists, it's there. But from here, the trip to the Embergem's supposed location would be foolishly dangerous, and recent progress in the lore of the crystal uncovered that the gem itself is threatening too. Something easily overlooked by the simple mind is that it could possibly take over the soul of the one to grab it, similar to Exaltation. Another way to read it is that one would need Exaltation to find the Embergem. The connection between Exaltation and the Embergem isn't clear to the treasure hunter's division, and even if they wouldn't know these things, they were hesitant to go out and look for the crystal.  
"I know that's not true... You know that's not true... I know you know... There's no point in hiding..." Snowwe shook her head.  
"Talk to the treasure hunters, I'll get your gold," the Chamberlain scaredly said and tried to hurry off.  
"They'd take all my gold and send me in the wrong direction... I'm not an idiot, Chamberlain..." she whispered.  
The Chamberlain shook his head and sighed, looking Snowwe dead in the eye. "Okay, I'm not telling this because the lord is a personal friend of mine and he wouldn't like it if I would say this. I know he would understand, but nonetheless, he wouldn't be happy. Secondly, because I know the dangers of the Embergem. It might not be what it seems to be. Certain pieces of lore suggest it possesses traits similar to Exaltation, or that the Embergem and Baldegryn's Soul could be one and the same, we don't know, and even if, the journey to the place is already dangerous enough! For the heaven's sake, we fear failure even if we send the entire division, a thousand of the most skilled and ruthless wanderers, questers and sorcerers in this country! And you think I would let a lone woman go?" Chamberlain paused and nodded to the heap of ears on the floor. "I give you that, that's impressive. But please, it's nowhere near comparable to the trip there! And I see how you walk, madam, you're limp! How will you even hope to get out of the country?" he added, yelling.  
Snowwe closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Watch me..." she quietly said. Not even a heartbeat later, she stood in front of the Chamberlain, sword at his throat like she did with Charles. Except for this time, she was standing roughly thirty metres away from the Chamberlain before she drew her sword. She jumped back and placed the sword in her overcoat again. "Look at me!" she yelled, spreading her arms and revealing an arsenal of ropes, hooks, clasps, daggers and bombs stored in the inside of her overcoat. "You think taking these goblins on was impressive? Ha! For me, it's just a quick bounty I picked up because I was close to Gateway City anyway! If Lord Funkrain doesn't want to send his armies out for the crystal, that's his loss, not mine!" Snowwe told him, finally losing her patience.  
The Chamberlain started breathing slowly and deeply, and finally looked up to Snowwe. "I-I'm sorry. You're right. I... Shouldn't have forced my protection on you like that. So, well. The Embergem is hidden in a cavern north-west of here, underneath the ruins of some fiendish altar in the Ravunstryne Mountains. Now, one more thing, before you go... As a reward for all these dead goblins, I will give you all the armour and weaponry of the Elite Armoury you want, follow this way," he waved Snowwe to follow. When he realised she wasn't moving, Chamberlain turned around.  
"That's very generous, but my equipment is good enough..." Snowwe shook her head. And don't even think about sending a soldier to help me..." she added.

"Are you really sure I can't go to help you?" Charles asked for the umpteenth time. Snowwe let out an agitated sigh.  
"Yes, I am sure, Charles..."  
Charles and the Chamberlain, whose name was Christopher, were waiting outside the city gates to wave Snowwe goodbye and wish her luck on her quest.  
"Oh, I know you don't want any help, for whatever reason it is is not my business, and I shall not ask for it, but please, take this," Christopher handed Snowwe a brown, burlap sack. "I've had the maids wash it, and in it are a lot of foods, press-dried. They won't spoil quickly. And take this too," the Chamberlain added a leather, pear-shaped bag with a metal lid on top of the bag. "use it to store drinks in," he added. Snowwe nodded in gratitude.  
"Bye, Snowwe. May we meet again!" the former thief waved her goodbye.  
"Bon voyage! May the heavens guide you!" the Chamberlain gracefully bowed her goodbye.  
"See y'all later..." Snowwe smiled, and walked off.

Off to the biggest quest she had ever started.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this prologue for whatever reason you have, mind this: No archive warnings apply here. But after this prologue, things might need a warning. If it's an issue for you, don't keep reading the series. This little start is perfectly safe for anyone; the rest of the story will be a lot more violent.


End file.
